


Ashes to ashes, dust to dust

by Ellstra



Series: I missed you more than I thought I would [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Gore, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Longing, M/M, Moral Dilemmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 15:13:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7897594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellstra/pseuds/Ellstra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux died because Ben Solo killed Kylo Ren, the man Hux loved. While Ben's moral compass goes all skewy, he knows one thing - Hux may have been a bad person but he deserves to rest in peace. It is not, however, everyone else's conviction though Ben is determined to give Hux a proper burial despite everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ashes to ashes, dust to dust

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sort of sequel to my story "Now you're just somebody that I used to know" although it can be read separately. 
> 
> Dedicated to Tokki who had the idea for this fic.
> 
> Warnings for sometimes unnecessarily gross thinking on Ben's part when he thinks about the physical aspect of death.

Ben emerges from the shabby cabin with a mad expression, his eyes glistening and just a bit too wide. His head feels detached from the rest of him and he feels the Dark side trying to sneak in where the Light wavered. He had expected Hux to put up a fight when they took him, to kill a few people even. He was prepared to try to keep the casualties at minimum forcefully if necessary and yes, he had anticipated to elicit some sort of emotional reaction from Hux which would, as he hoped, help sedate the former General. What he had not expected was Hux having a meltdown and blaming him for killing the man Hux loved. 

There are so many things wrong about it that Ben has no idea where to start sorting his thoughts. His mind doesn’t particularly want to be sorted; the picture of Hux sticking Kylo Ren’s lightsaber into his chest, his eyes tearful and filled with psychotic glimmer keeps taking over Ben’s thoughts. The scene was a lot less gruesome in reality than it probably should - considering how bad it fucked Ben up - the energy of the lightsaber burning off almost all arteries instantaneously, congealing Hux’s life into burnt puffs before it started to seep. Ben feels dirty, feels like he’s covered in guts and blood and death. 

Finn approaches him with a questioning face and Ben looks away, unable to meet the other man’s gaze because he fears he has Hux’s death written in his eyes, the guilt and pain of it smeared all over his face. He jerks his head in a motion that hurts his neck. Finn doesn’t ask, doesn’t speak, and he gestures for several of his fellow soldiers to follow him into the cabin. Ben’s never been particularly fond of the man but he’s grateful for his incredible sense of other people’s pain now.

Ben’s eyes are still opened too wide and they start to hurt. His breath comes raggedly and, at times, not at all as his chest contracts and closes up his throat. Old memories, awakened by Hux’s words, by the mere sight of Hux’s eyes, take up color and shape again. They were almost formless, bleak and withered only that morning but now they nest in his brain and demand his attention, surfacing and disappearing again in an endless whirl of the carousel of Ben’s mind. There are so many of them and they all yearn to be alive again, gasping for air and important as they were when they were created. 

_“I’m Captain Hux,” a ginger man says and seems to be hesitating whether he should offer his hand to him. He doesn’t._

_“You’re reckless and childish and it is an insult to the Finalizer to be forced to carry you,” Hux spits and he thinks it’s probably true._

_“Careful, Ren,” Hux says and shivers runs down his spine, chilling and arousing at the same time._

_“I was ordered to come retrieve you,” Hux retorts and it’s just a bit too sharp and fast for him to believe it._

_“You’ll have a scar if you don’t let the doctors treat your face,” Hux says, tired and heavy and just a tad bit concerned. He wonders whether the General likes his face enough to be bothered by the prospect of it being marred._

_“You’re bleeding, stop it,” Hux snaps and it sounds almost like a plea, like a wish. He doesn’t heed it, doesn’t listen and carries on with his stupid exercise even if his side hurts like hell because now there are tears in his eyes and Hux looks concerned and he doesn’t think he can take Hux’s care._

_“Rest, please. You shouldn’t strain yourself so much. It won’t do you any good-“ Hux is silenced by his kiss and tries to finish the sentence even with his lips pressed against Hux’s own. He finds it hilarious and endearing and he laughs into Hux’s mouth._

_“I’ve made a mistake,” Hux whispers against his neck, soft and warm and caressing. He knows Hux is referring to the conversation they had weeks ago, the one when Hux said falling in love is a mistake made by fools and can be avoided by those of superior intellect. He feels a dab of pride and glee and a great deal of adoration._

_“The whole First Order depends on you. You’re the future of it, or its doom,” Hux informs him when they look down at yet another monstrous weapon. When he tries to protest, Hux silences him: “I’m the soul of the First Order and you have my heart in your hand. Nourish it and the Order will thrive, crush it and the galaxy will shake in its foundations.”_

Ben sobs and hiccups when that particular memory arises from within his subconscious. He tries to shove it back where it came from or to pretend his mind made it up because he feels guilty and responsible for Hux’s death, but he fails. The image is still there, a red-hot brand at the back of his skull playing up over and over in a loop like a sequence from a nightmare right after you wake up from it. Ben remembers reminiscing about this particular moment when he turned his back on Hux all the long months ago - years, Ben reminded himself, it had been years. He had recalled Hux’s kisses and his embraces and that one whispered “I love you” that spilled out of Hux’s mouth like a drop from a dysfunctional water tap when he thought Kylo couldn’t hear him. 

Kylo…

Ben hasn’t thought of the man for a long time. He is a ghost from the past, a figure looming over Ben in his weakest moments, threatening to come again and swallow him, kidnap him, claim him anew. As he stands there, on a bleak, miserable piece of rock that is called a planet only for the lack of a better word, he can’t help but wonder how the day would have turned out if Kylo Ren did indeed come to seize his body back before he faced Hux. Would Hux still be alive? Would Ben be? 

Ben shudders when he feels the Force enveloping him; it always reaches to him when he’s distraught as if it can’t bear his frail self screaming into the void of the universe about his turmoil. He’s discussed it with Rey because he didn’t dare ask Luke something so personal; she couldn’t say she had the same experience but she said, in careful, moderated words, that she had never struggled with her inclination. Ben prefers to think he is special even if Rey bests him in many ways although on some occasions, the Force caressing him like an ardent lover makes him shiver. It’s usually the Dark side trying to win back his affections as if he truly was important, truly was capable of making the Galaxy shake in its foundations. 

It is there on the distant planet that barely made it into the Republic for its goats’ extraordinary wool where Ben thinks, for the first time since he purged himself of the Dark side, that he is, indeed, weaker than Kylo Ren was. He’s managed to hide it from himself for the past years but he can’t now when Hux spat it in his face, like a curse, like a particularly nasty insult. Ben doesn’t want to go down that path; it’s dangerously close to what had given birth to Kylo Ren all those years ago. He thought he was over his existential crisis, thought he found his place. He hasn’t been happy, or content or even fulfilled, but who is? 

Kylo Ren was; back in Hux’s arms as they crushed an opponent together. Kylo Ren was stronger, faster and more apt in reading minds. The Force still answers to Ben Solo, more than the majority of people can pride themselves in, but when he allows himself to compare it with what it gave Kylo Ren, he can’t help feeling like he’s denied one limb or a part of his brain. 

It starts to rain and Ben pulls up a hood to shield his face. His nose peeks from below the fabric; raindrops hit it here and there and linger on the tip of it long enough until it’s too heavy to stay there. Ben turned around to see Finn and another man carry a heavy-looking object draped in a murky, stained cloth. Ben tries to puzzle what it could be and he feels sick when he realizes they are carrying Hux’s body. 

Hux, who dreamed of ruling the Galaxy. Hux, whose nightmares consisted of unfinished paperwork, shoes kicked under the bed and wrinkled clothes. Hux, who changed his bedsheets at least once every week, even if they didn’t have sex in them and, later on, slept in them because they did so in Kylo’s quarters. Hux, who considered polishing boots and folding uniforms relaxing activities. Hux, who ironed his underwear. 

They carry him in a dirty rag they probably keep on the floor of the ship for when they go on missions in snow or mud and don’t want to stain the deck. Ben’s heart was swelling with ache when he saw the conditions Hux had been forced to live in in his exile but this is a whole new level of humiliation.

“Finn!” Ben calls, louder than he has in years. Anger dribbles off his voice, taking roots in Ben’s chest, holding a seat for the Dark side. Ben tries to suppress it and calms down, suffocating the little tree in his ribcage. There are logical arguments for Ben to use, some of them charitable even. 

Finn stops and the man behind him lets the body fall into the muddy ground as if he can’t be bothered to hold it too long. Fury flares through Ben again.

“This is undignified.” Ben says simply.

“He’s a war-criminal. He killed billions of people and you killed him without a trial,” Finn replies, his brow puckered. Ben wonders whether he has ever seen the former stormtrooper like this and realizes he probably hasn’t. Finn is carrying the corpse of the man who was the face of an organization that took Finn’s life away when he was a baby, he ought to have a different quality to his eyes.

“I didn’t kill him,” Ben counters, softly, fearfully, because in a way he did. He did kill Hux; there is blood on his hands and this time it won’t be washed as easily as before. Ben reasons it’s because he isn’t a killer, not like Kylo Ren was, but he has never been very good at fooling himself. He has killed since he purified himself and while it affected him, it never left a wound this deep. Hux’s blood is familiar, knows Ben’s body and finds every crease in his skin to settle there and never be removed, to serve as a reminder to Ben, taunting him, accusing him. 

“What do you want, Ben?” Finn snaps, a purely uncharacteristic gesture on his part. 

“Everybody deserves a proper burial. A dead person should be treated with respect,” Ben recites and hopes calm voice of reason would sway Finn.

“He’s not a person. He’s barely a body,” the man behind Finn shrugs. “Let it go.”

“No,” Ben hisses and the air fills with raw energy, like static but not quite as perceptible. It’s a dark sort of energy, ensnaring and deceiving and oh so deliciously proximate. Ben hasn’t realized up to that moment how closer Kylo Ren was to the Force, resting in its presence. As if the body they occupied - Ben and Kylo and then Ben again - was destined to be in the dark, no matter which of them is in control. “He was a great man. A bad one but more competent and determined than any of you. He deserves as much as a coffin and a grave.”

“Nah, he’s going to be burned in this thing,” the man says. Finn’s eyes flicker between him and Ben, recalling days long gone. Ben can see it in his eyes, can see the fear, and suppresses his anger again, giving it up for the Force to take as an offering, as a plea. 

“No. I’ll carry him until we find a coffin to lay him in,” Ben says flatly and makes a beeline for the body. He opens the crude bag they made from the rag and reveals Hux’s body again. A hysterical, painful sob rises to his throat and it takes all his willpower to stifle it. He slips his arms under Hux’s knees and back and concentrates on his steps, on how many raindrops are now hitting his shoulders, on the grass below his feet. But the memory of carrying Hux like this in a previous lifetime sneaks into his thinking again and he gasps, surprised by its intensity, by the intensity of the emotions it brings up.

“ _You’re so beautiful, Hux,” he says. There’s a whimper from the man in his arms. “You’re so beautiful for me.”_

_“I’m not beautiful for you,” Hux protests but it’s feeble, his voice catching in his throat, “I’m beautiful despite you.”_

_“You’re a canvas and I turned you into a masterpiece,” he murmurs and sets Hux onto the bed gently. He traces his fingers across the bitemarks and bruises on Hux’s skin. Hux opens his mouth to say something sarcastic but he catches his eyes and shuts up before blurting out the words meant to shield him from emotions._

_“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” he growls and leans in for a kiss because the sight of Hux vulnerable and pliant like this is too much._

Ben suddenly notices he’s already entered the ship, his strides long and forceful. Finn gives him that strange look again, the one that seems to try to determine when Ben would break into a fit. Ben sits down on the ground, Hux’s broken body across his lap. 

The angles of it are wrong. His head shouldn’t bend so far back, his hands shouldn’t take so much space, his spine shouldn’t be this flexible. Hux was always tense, despite all Kylo’s attempts at forcing the General to take a break or soothing it when he didn’t listen. Ben supported Hux’s lifeless head with his hand, trying to make it right, to put Hux into a less embarrassing and painful position for when he wakes up. Tears sting Ben’s eyes when he glances at the jagged, frayed wound in the middle of Hux’s chest that no gentle supporting can fix. 

He has seen dozens and hundreds and thousands of bodies in his lifetime but he never took his time to inspect them. They weren’t important once they became corpses; they could have been carcasses for all he cared. He doesn’t know how long it takes for a body to start going cold or stiff. He doesn’t know how long it takes for the rotting flesh to start reeking. He’s nauseated suddenly, imagining Hux’s body crawling with worms and bugs while juices pour out of it and follow Ben wherever he goes and he can’t escape it, no matter how hard he tries. The worms suddenly start talking in his mind, accusing him of unspeakable things and mocking him for being so weak and pathetic that he started questioning stripping off Kylo Ren as soon as Hux killed himself. 

“Ben, you don’t need to have the corpse in your lap,” one of the men Ben didn’t know but by sight speaks. “Nobody’s taking it away from you.”

Ben growls, low in his chest. He sees Finn hissing at the man and shaking his head and the former shrugging and rolling his eyes. Ben decides not to pay them any mind. No, they won’t take Hux away from him, they already did that. _He_ already did that.

_“Please don’t do this,” Hux pleads and reaches his hand towards him as if he could hope to make any difference with his delicate, soft hands._

_“I have to,” he replies and his voice is softer than usual, full of remorse._

_“If you have to,” Hux shakes his head almost imperceptibly. He doesn’t think he’d notice without the glow of the panels behind Hux. “Go ahead.”_

_“Hux,” he whispers. He waits for his lover to struggle and to shout at him for how stupid he is but it doesn’t come._

_“You said you had to go. I’m not going to stand in the way of your happiness,” Hux spits the last word out as if it bit him._

_“Thank you,” he says and hopes Hux will understand._

_“Don’t mention it,” Hux says, dismissing him, and turns away._

“You should have begged then,” Ben murmurs quietly and tangles his fingers in the ginger hair that lost its glow. 

“I wasn’t desperate then,” the corpse seems to say. 

The flight is short and uneventful, dull. Ben spends it going through his memory, thinking about what he should have done to prevent Hux from sticking Kylo’s lightsaber in his chest. _Not give him the lightsaber_ , he thinks sardonically. He finds it oddly tragically beautiful however, the fact that Hux had kept the weapon he claimed to hate and which he couldn’t hope to use to protect himself, the fact that he chose to end his life with it. Hux had always told Kylo that he was being unnecessarily dramatic but Hux should have seen _himself_. 

_Where are you now?_ Ben thinks and hopes for a while that if he wishes it enough, Hux will hear him and answer. He looks up, for some reason, as if searching for Hux’s shadow to descend to him from the heavens. As if Hux could ever go to heaven. As if a man could be good just because he was loved once. As if he could be good just because he loved in return. It just meant he was more vulnerable and caused more pain when he died.

Ben peels off his gloves. He watches, mesmerized, as his slightly sweaty hands free themselves from the leather. He stuffs the gloves in his pocket and touches Hux’s cooling forehead gingerly, afraid the body will break under the merest touch. It doesn’t. He traces a line along Hux’s hairline, notices it had receded slightly from where he remembered it to be, and there are silver strands in the orange sunset. 

_It was your fault too, you know?_ Ben muses again as he circles the hollow in Hux’s cheek with his index finger. _You should have told me to stay with you._

Ben checks his fingers after running them over Hux’s closed eyelids. He thinks he can feel the soft pollen of Hux’s dead cells peeling off the skin and resists the urge to wipe his fingers on his clothes. He’s making the feeling of being dirty worse but he can’t stop. It’s been so long since he could touch Hux like this and now it’s too late. Ben finds he doesn’t like it quite as much without Hux complaining about it and trying to hide how he melts with the touch. 

Ben wishes the Dark side had been persuasive enough before he came face to face with Hux.

…

“Ben, do you want to talk?” Rey comes to his side as soon as they land. She glances at the body in Ben’s arms and almost manages to hide her shudder. Ben is gracious enough to ignore it. 

“Do you know someone who would help me organize a funeral?” he asks Rey in answer. 

“No,” she says, taken in surprise by his question, “he won’t get a funeral.”

“He will,” Ben hisses and this time, Rey’s fearful shiver is too strong to pass over. 

“His family would have to explicitly ask for his body. Then we’d give it up and they could do whatever they wanted with it. But he won’t get a funeral as a criminal here,” Rey explains calmly, “you could have asked for funerals for the other officers and it wouldn’t have been a problem. But him? He commanded five planets to explode. Everyone here will want to see his body burn.”

“They gave me a chance to live here and he can’t even be dead in peace?” Ben spits and his eyes glimmer. Rey thinks there’s tears in his eyes. 

“Don’t go there, Ben,” she warns him and touches his forearm. 

“I’ll pay for it.”

“It’s not about the money.”

“Then I demand his body be given to me and I’ll bury him myself.” 

“That’s just for family members.”

“I’m the closest thing he’s ever had to family,” Ben says quietly.

“Don’t say that in front of people, Ben,” Rey yelps, surprised, “not here. Please.”

“I will give him a funeral whether people want me to or not,” Ben replies and there’s a threat under his words, “I’ll prefer to do it peacefully but I will fight for it if necessary.”

“You should speak to your mother about it,” Rey says only. She remembers Ben when he was fighting and doesn’t particularly wish to see it again. She’s grown to accept him, to not flinch whenever he is near her and even to form a shaky, bumpy friendship with him. They never speak of their first encounter or of the second, third, fourth one. It dawns on her suddenly that she never knew what sort of relationship Ben had with Hux. She looks up at the tears in his eyes, at his clenched jaw, at the determination in his strides. 

“How close were you with him?” she asks and doesn’t realize she’s said it aloud.

“I loved him,” Ben says simply because he doesn’t have the strength to hide anymore, or maybe he doesn’t want to. It doesn’t matter now, if it ever mattered. Ben thinks part of the reason why he never thought of Hux recently was his fear that if he did, if he allowed himself to recall the moments just before dawn when Hux woke up and kissed his brow before walking to a table and checking his comm, he’d rush to Hux’s side again. He was so lonely. He had always been lonely but it never mattered so much, he thought it was normal. It’s impossible to keep up the pretense when he had someone remember how he liked his caf and bring it to his bed because he was useless in the morning. 

Rey lets out a tiny sounds, thin and scared. 

“I loved him and I betrayed him and left him to lose the only thing that ever mattered to him. He asked me not to leave and I did.” He says and his arms finally start to feel the weight of the body he’s carrying. “How am I a good person if I did that?”

Rey doesn’t say anything; she’s overwhelmed by emotions that swarm the air, by Ben’s distress and by the raw pain in his eyes. 

“Do you know he killed himself?” he whispers suddenly. He hears her sharp inhale. “I asked him to come with me and that he won’t be harmed. And he spat at me. He told me I killed the man he loved and that he’d never surrender himself to me. And he killed himself.”

“That’s a lightsaber wound,” Rey pointed out.

“He kept my old lightsaber. Kylo Ren’s.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“So you understand why I have to do this?”

“I’ll help you,” she says suddenly, and she means it. She has no desire to help pay last respects to someone who ordered billions of people killed but she wants to help Ben who looks more lost and helpless like he never did.

“Thank you.”

…

“Mom, I request a permission to hold a funeral for Hux,” Ben says, omitting Hux’s title in hope of making him seem more like a person and less like a military officer. 

“The same men you killed?” Leia’s eyes narrow. She wanted to interrogate Hux, to look into the eyes of him, and she was convinced her son killed this opportunity. Nobody but Rey knows the truth, even if Finn probably suspects, and Ben is grateful for that. 

“Yes. He refused to surrender even after I warned him. He was armed and attempted to hurt me so I defended myself.” Ben lies and after so many times, including a small court martial that was to determine whether Ben’s killing a hostage as valuable after putting the mission in jeopardy by dismissing Finn’s troop was an offense or merely a lapse, it feels almost natural, almost like the truth. “That does not diminish his right to be buried.”

“Why do you care about it so much?”

“I know that nobody else does. He didn’t have a family or friends and nobody is going to care for his soul here. I however… wish his soul to join the Force peacefully. I feel the need to make sure of it.”

“Were you his friend?” Leia asks her son. He’s taller than her, remarkably so, but in that moment he looks lost and small.

“You could say so,” Ben says evasively.

“Finn told me you didn’t allow anyone near his body.”

“They were treating it like an animal carcass,” Ben huffs at the memory.

“I can’t allow you to bury him, Ben,” Leia says and avoids his eyes, “I wish I could but you know the rules. I’m sorry.”

“I think you know I won’t stop here,” Ben warns her.

“I wish I didn’t,” Leia sighs, “please be careful.”

Ben doesn’t respond; he turns around and exits the room without a word. He clenches his jaw and his fists, plans whirling in his head.

…

“Are you still going to help me?” Ben asks Rey.

“She didn’t let you have him,” she guesses.

“No.” 

“Does she know?”

“No. She can never know.” 

“Okay,” Rey nods, “what’s the plan?”

“We steal him from the medical wing before they burn him, then borrow a ship or something and fly to some other planet where we bury him in peace.”

“Can’t we do it here?” 

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Okay. I guess we could use the Falcon, Chewie’s on Kashyyyk anyway.”

“Thank you.”

“I wish I didn’t have to do this.”

“I appreciate that you do.”

…

Stealing Hux’s body turns out to be easier than Ben anticipated. He doesn’t quite realize just how terrifying he looks when he corners the nurse and Rey doesn’t dare tell him. The problem is carrying the capsule it is in to the Falcon but with the help of the Force, they manage to do that too. Rey sits down at the seat of the captain automatically while Ben slips in beside her, the casket behind them. The beeps and digits on it remind them that the batteries that keep the body frozen will run down in an hour.

Rey leads the Falcon out of the atmosphere effortlessly and almost without Ben’s help, relying rather on her instincts than on his ability to stay focused at this moment. Ben gives her coordinates of the planet he’s chosen and she sets the course. Falcon complies and they enter hyperspace smoothly. Rey sits back while Ben fidgets, looking over his shoulder again and again. 

“It’ll be okay,” Rey says when the silence gets a little bit too long. Ben nods and stares in front of himself directly as if he could see anything in the alternate dimension surrounding them. He wonders what it would be like if Falcon broke down suddenly. Would they be stuck in hyperspace, lost forever? Does the Force reach into it to collect souls or is it inaccessible for it too?

Rey seems uncomfortable, checking the panel too often which worries Ben even further. He knows enough about the ship to fly it but he never paid enough attention to it to learn how to fix it. It isn’t his legacy anymore, in a way it never has been, and he doesn’t have to worry about it, Rey deserves it better than anyone. Ben thinks, wistfully, that his father would probably be happier to have Rey as a daughter than he could have been with Ben as a son.

He can’t shake off his anxiety, which is ridiculous. He’s never been anxious aboard the Falcon before. Emotional, scared, hurt, yes, but never anxious. The thing was old when Ben was born and should have already broken into pieces years ago and yet it didn’t. Ben trusted Falcon to be immortal, as far as anything can be immortal. 

_Hux_ seemed immortal the day he gave that speech back on Starkiller base. Kylo mocked him for it, for how dramatic it was, but secretly he felt power in it. Hux didn’t know and Kylo never told him, but the Force itself came to listen to him that day. Hux was invincible and impossible to kill in that moment, and look where he ended. And it was all Ben’s fault, even if part of the guilt was Kylo’s. 

“The Force is darker around you, Ben,” Rey says after a while, “ever since you came back.”

“I know,” Ben admits, “I tried to fight it but it feels too good and too strong. It feels wrong to fight it.”

“You know where it got you last time.”

“No, this is different. This time I’m making concessions,” Ben explains, “I gave some space to the dark to feed it while keeping myself clean. I feel better, stronger and more composed than I ever have, light or dark.”

“That’s dangerous,” Rey points out firmly, “you know people who were addicted to something can never take the drug again, no matter how small amount or how they think they have it under control. It will devour them eventually.”

“Do you ever wonder why the Force has two sides?”

“I think the dark side exists to show us the right way. Without the bad, there’s no good, like there’s no hero without a villain.”

“Don’t you think they can’t exist one without the other?”

“Of course,” Rey nods, “that’s what I said.”

“No, I meant… what if to get the most of something is to pick a little of both parts? Like you take both a hero and a villain to make a good story.”

“The dark side knows it can’t fool you with the same tricks again so it’s trying a different approach. Ben please, don’t do this to yourself again.”

“I’m sorry I brought it up,” Ben mutters and looks away from her. Why can’t she just understand? Why is it so easy for everyone to choose a side and stay there? Why must he question his heart every single time he takes a breath to determine if it was good air that he inhaled? And why is it so difficult to accept that the best way may be to satiate the dark side with a little sacrifice in order not to lose himself? Ben knows he can never be as good or as pure as Rey is, he’s never been. Ben doesn’t want to go back to being Kylo Ren but he doesn’t think Ben Solo fits who he is anymore. It takes so much effort to stay faithful to just one side and Ben is tired. He recalls Kylo’s constant struggle to push the light away and compares it with his current attempts to ward off the dark.

Maybe that’s the universe’s ultimate practical joke, ultimate fuck you in Ben’s face. He just can’t be one thing or another, he’s both and simultaneously none at all and he’s an outcast. He can never fit for he is too emotional to be light and too sensitive to be dark. He wonders why he felt like he belonged with Hux because Hux had no such issues or struggles. Ben figures it may be because the General believed, wholeheartedly, that what he was doing was the best thing and that it would help the galaxy. Maybe Hux had more light in him than Kylo did after all; he was delusional and used all the wrong methods, but he wasn’t dark for the sake of it.

Ben misses the simplicity of Hux’s embrace and the feeling that it doesn’t matter who he is as long as he fucks Hux just right that night.

Rey steals glances in his directions and Ben has enough self-control not to snap at her for it. They remain silent until they land on the planet Ben has chosen. Rey motions for him to help her with the landing but they don’t speak, communicating merely by gestures and touches. Ben hopes Rey won’t leave him now. He doesn't think he’d be able to take it.

…

They stand above the opened grave and watch a simple grey coffin. Ben picked the less ornate he could find even if he wished to give Hux all the pomp and drama he deserved. At last, he decided to go for the one that screamed military uniformity and austerity and hoped Hux would appreciate it. He didn’t attempt to speak to Hux again, not like he did in his moment of weakness back in the shuttle. 

Rey offers a hand in a shy gesture and Ben takes it gingerly, not knowing how to handle something so small. Wind howls around them without affecting the thick fog around them that soaks their clothes and sticks them to their shivering bodies. Ben bows his head and then, in a rush of emotion, presses two fingers to his lips, pulls them away and rubs them against his thumb as if he was adding a pinch of spice to a meal. Rey doesn’t say anything. 

Suddenly, Ben can’t take the sight of the casket any longer. He turns around almost violently, dragging Rey with her. He makes his way through the drizzle that prickles his face, and pretends the water on his cheeks is from the rainfall alone.


End file.
